


Awakening

by Beardy



Series: Awakening [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angsty Vision, Between AOU and CACW, F/M, Friend Wanda - Freeform, Masturbation Interruptus, Pre Wanda/Vision - Freeform, Steamy, The Talk, UST, Vision deals with his feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beardy/pseuds/Beardy
Summary: Set between Age of Ultron and Civil War. Wanda and Vision are close friends who flirt awkwardly. Vision struggles with how he views himself as a result of his growing feelings for Wanda and the urges that come with them. Wanda helps him to deal with how he views himself as a result of said feelings. Mentions of the movie Black Swan.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Series: Awakening [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671595
Comments: 25
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

Wanda had a symmetrical face and a figure which conformed to societal standards of beauty. That was what he had told himself when he had first found himself looking at her for just a little too long. Natasha conformed to all of society’s standards of beauty but he didn’t find his eyes hovering for too long on her. He didn’t find his, what would have been a stomach, flutter when Natasha sat next to him on the sofa in the common area or when she smiled at him. Not the way that his stomach lurched when Wanda smiled one of her real smiles, one of the few that reached her eyes, the type of smile that was usually only reserved for him.

  
He had tried to rationalise it. She was everything he had ever known, she had spoken to him even before his birth, perhaps if he was to develop such urges it was inevitable that he would begin to develop such feelings towards her. Perhaps it was simply his programming; protect humanity, she had been in the darkest place in those first few months after he had met her, perhaps his feelings were simply a manifestation of his need to protect her, after all she was his friend and colleague.

  
Ultron had been intrigued by her too, he had been attracted to the power that she possessed and had intended to make her his once the mission was complete. He told himself that he was not Ultron, he did not want her for her power, that his motives were pure. He didn’t want her for her power, that much was true, and his motives may have been pure but his thoughts of her, well, his thoughts had fast become less pure.

  
He wanted her. He wanted Wanda. As a man wants.

  
He longed to understand humanity, perhaps understanding humanity would aid him in becoming more human himself, or at the very least becoming more acceptable to humanity. What he had quickly come to realise was that humanity is frustrating. Frustration at his own confusion and inadequacy in the social aspects of living with others, the unwritten rules which made very little sense to him. Why use a door when one can phase through a wall and save 0.05 of a second? Coffee grounds are garbage why would they not be disposed of down the garbage disposal? Frustration at his inability to complete menial tasks such as prepare an edible meal. Ultron had built him to be a flawless, indestructible machine. A flawless, indestructible machine that couldn’t follow a recipe.

  
Slowly, ever so slowly, so slowly that he had failed to notice the difference in his thoughts, they began to change. He would seek her out, purposely be in the kitchen when he knew that she would be and eventually he began to feel a decidedly different kind of frustration.

  
One morning during training he couldn’t help but notice a bead of sweat follow the path down Wanda’s chest to fall between her breasts. He imagined following the bead’s path with one slim red finger. Imagined how his hand would heave against her caused by the rise and fall of her chest, how her skin would feel under his fingers, smooth and damp. His throat felt constricted his brilliant mind a foggy haze as he turned and phased through the building towards his room, ignoring Steve’s confused shout of “Vision? We still have another half hour!”

  
Waves of feelings bombarded him as he entered his room, the foggy haze dampened followed by confusion, guilt, shame. He was terrible, a monster. Wanda was his friend, she was vulnerable and wonderful and beautiful, she was one of the few people who thought that the differences in his conception didn’t make him less of a person and he had objectified her. He was truly terrible.

  
She sashayed past him whilst he was sitting in the common area reading, hips gently swaying, a band of flesh visible between her knee high socks and her skirt as she sashayed towards him. She smiled at him, and sat down, tucking her legs underneath her and leaned her hand against his knee as she stretched across the coffee table to grasp the remote for the television. His eyes widened; throat constricted again. He closed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the image of her moving towards him and instead of taking up residence next to him, straddling him where he sat and him fanning his fingers against the tantalising flesh of her thighs as she settled onto his lap. She was exquisite.

  
Embarrassment prickled. He forced the teasing image from his mind mentally reciting the periodic table.

  
“Movie?” She looked up towards him nonchalantly.

  
“Of course. Please, choose. Would you like sweet or salted popcorn?” He placed his bookmark into his book and set it onto the coffee table, patting the hand on his knee awkwardly and motioning to rise.

  
Wanda, chuckled, withdrawing her hand and looking up at him beneath her lashes.

  
“Both.” She smiled a toothy smile at him.

  
“Of course.” He smiled back, a full-bodied smile, feeling a warmth radiate through his chest as it constricted.

  
“I will return momentarily” his voice rising an octave above his normal speaking voice.

  
It took the walk over to the kitchen area to compose himself, he bent down to open the snack cabinet grasping a bag of popcorn, he turned around to begin his walk back to the living space to see Wanda’s eyeline snap upwards to meet his eyes a note of panic in them. Had she been looking at… Of course not.

  
As he settled back onto the sofa Wanda turned, crossing her feet across the arm rest leaning her back and head against Vision’s arm. He had a choice, either his arm would be trapped against his side, beneath her back for the duration of the film or he could cross it over the top of the sofa meaning that she would be resting against his flank. He decided on the latter.

  
“What are we watching”

  
“Black Swan, I haven’t seen it before but I hear good things.” Vision nodded. In his peripherals he could see Wanda tip her face backwards to look at him.

  
“Popcorn Vizh”

  
“Oh” He reached his hand down to give her the popcorn and met her eyes, a slight embarrassed smile adorned his face.

  
“Thanks” He could have sworn that her eyes moved to his mouth.

  
“You’re very welcome.” She smiled back at him until he ripped his eyes from hers and transferred his focus to the opening credits, realising that in this position he had a clear view down her top and could make out the lace of her bra and the swell of her breasts.

  
“Vizh”

“Wanda”

  
“Have you ever tried popcorn?” She had shifted herself to look upwards at him, one of her hands holding a piece of popcorn up to his face.

  
“I have not.” His eyes flickered towards her and immediately back to the screen.

  
“Open your mouth.” She tapped his cheek with her hand prompting him to turn his face to hers. He did so, keeping his focus on the small piece of popcorn in her fingers. She brought it up to his mouth, cupping his chin with the rest of her hand. He did as bid, opening his mouth and allowing her to place the popcorn onto his tongue. He chewed, swallowed and smiled gently.  
“interesting texture.” Satisfied she smiled and resumed her reclined position against him as they settled in to watch the movie.

  
It didn’t take long before Vision was regretting not searching the movie on IMDB to pre-warn himself. His eyes had widened to the size of saucers as he watched the actress on screen touch herself. He had to beat down thoughts of Wanda bringing herself the same pleasure. The fact that he had managed to keep him composure was a minor miracle. As the dancer’s tutor had shown her the ways of “seduction” Vision had been brought back to his own image from the training room; Wanda’s breasts covered with a sheen of sweat. He chanced a glance down at Wanda. She was flushed, her heartbeat elevated and her mouth slightly agape. She was divine. His hands itched to touch her. As the dance instructor cupped his protégé Vision grasped the fleece throw on top of the sofa clenching it in his fists and practically threw it at Wanda, being certain to cover her chest lest he give in to temptation. She jumped in shock, clearly having been engrossed in the scene herself.

  
He had finally managed to gain some sort of composure when Mila Kunis tackled Natalie Portman to the bed. He was erect. His mind was full with thoughts of Wanda’s hair fanned out across her bed as his mouth worked between her legs. Wanda’s breathy sighs and moans as he brought her to climax. He couldn’t take anymore.

  
“I do apologise.”

  
He became incorporeal, causing Wanda to fall through him and onto the sofa, shrieking in surprise and headed as quickly as he possibly could to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

He paced his room, head in his hands. If he could cry he would. How could he think of such things? He was disgusting. He looked down at his trousers in disgust. It just wouldn’t go away. It was the first time such a thing had happened. A part of his body that refused to be controlled. His mind sang out to him taunting him to give himself the release he so desperately needed. He opened and closed his fist, trying not to give in to the temptation, but it was too much. He could still see her in his minds eye, the way her skirt would ride up ever so slightly as she lounged on the sofa, how she would pant his name as he gave her pleasure. His fists clenched and his jaw twitched mind urging him not to do what his body absolutely wanted him to do.

He dropped his hand to his crotch and squeezed gently, wanting to test his reaction, he hissed quietly, his other hand on the wall steadying himself. He needed more. He allowed his hand to pass through the trousers he was wearing and grasped himself. He moaned loudly as he dragged his hand over himself once, resting his head against the wall. It felt incredible. He needed this. He tried it again, nostrils flaring. He couldn’t recall making any conscious decision to make the third stroke, or any stroke after that. His pace quickened. Her image flashed into his head, he squeezed himself harder as he imagined pushing himself inside her.

“Wanda” he whispered.

“Vizh” a voice came from the other side of the door. He stopped abruptly, panic setting in. She couldn’t see him like this. He desperately looked around.

“Vizh, I’m coming in.” The handle started to turn.

His eyes widened and he sat down in one of his armchairs, covering his lap with one of the cushions.

She looked around the room, noticed the way he couldn’t meet her eyes and smiled sadly.

“Are you alright Vizh?” She approached him cautiously.

“Of course.” He smiled at her, the smile not quite meeting his eyes.

“Vizh, I’m sorry if the movie upset you. I would never want to upset you.”

“You could never.” Vizh answered far too quickly, finally meeting her eyes. She smiled at him and took the seat next to his, the coffee table between them.

“Do you want to talk about it, whatever has bothered you? You can trust me Vizh, no judgment here.” She raised her hands in a surrender pose.

“I do not know where to start.” He stared off at the picture hung on the wall opposite them.

“Okay, well, may I ask a question Vizh? Please tell me to mind my own business if I am way off the mark or overstepping.” Her voice was hesitant, clearly she didn't really want to be having this conversation.

“Go ahead.”

“Are you, do you, are you interested in anything, sexually I mean?”

“I believe that I am.” She nodded, pursing her lips.

“This is a recent realisation?”

“Yes.” He whispered. Still staring at the picture.

“I… I have recently begun to experience feelings of a sexual nature.” He dropped his gaze and studied his knees intently.

“Vizh, that is completely normal. You’re a man, the majority of which have some form of sexual urge or desire.”

“I am not a man.”

“Your reaction, did you have a reaction?” His nod is almost imperceptible. “Is that of a man. It is perfectly natural. Besides, it is a very hot scene.” She smiled and bumped against his shoulder unable to resist glancing down at the cushion strategically placed across his lap.

He exhales, a small smile against his lips.

“Sex is a natural, normal aspect of human relationships, it is not shameful to think about sex, heck it’s not shameful to have sex should that be what you want. So long as both parties are consenting, the sex is safe and everybody is enjoying themselves that is all that matters… With the right person sex can be incredible. You were just thinking about it, so long as you are respectful, which; frankly, I don’t think you have the capacity to be disrespectful, your thoughts are your thoughts.”

“I do not feel that my thoughts are respectful. I feel that my thoughts are utterly despicable. The things that I have imagined…”

“Vizh.” She gulped, her breath hitching as she gathered herself, grasping his hand in her own.

“Vizh, I am assuming that the person in your thoughts is somebody you know personally? When you are with that person are you respectful towards them? Do you force your desires upon them?”

“Of course not.”

“Then you are respectful of them.” She moved her hand gently across his knuckles, leaned across the table and kissed him gently on the cheek.

“Whoever they are they would be lucky to have you.” She whispered softly against his cheek. His eyes fluttering closed at the contact.

“Why don’t we finish the movie?” At his look of incredulation she smiled and stood up.

“Come on. What’s the worst that can happen.” He scoffed and sighed.

“Fine. But I am taking this with me.” He said holding aloft his cushion.


	3. Chapter 3

She led him back into the sitting area, her hand lightly gripping his fingers. He went to cross his leg over his knee as he sat back in his original spot. She lay back down on the couch, and turned around to him, tapping him on his knee. He sighed in mock drama and placed his foot on the floor allowing her to rest her head against his thigh as she smiled a toothy grin at him.

Her mind couldn’t help but stray to the fact that he had been aroused as she had laid on him earlier. She had realised when he bolted from the sofa what must have happened, as his friend she had been worried for him, she couldn’t leave him to fret, he would beat himself up and avoid her for the rest of the week out of sheer embarrassment, better to get it over and done with.

On approaching the door she had heard the distinct sound of a man moaning in pleasure, at the sound she had felt her own arousal increase, it had crossed her mind to just open the door, catch him in the act and see where the situation led. He would have been mortified. In the moment she decided to be a friend instead. 

She had felt a curious attraction to him from the moment he had emerged from the cradle, he was built to emulate a god and he certainly lived up the name with his tall frame, chisled features and lithe corded muscles. He was mesmerising to look at. In time however she had come to know him, he wasn’t a god, he was a person just like the rest of them, with the same desire to belong, be understood and be accepted for who he is. She had come to love him in the purest sense of the word, to love their friendship and camaraderie, to love the way that he had tried so hard to comfort her in her grief, so much so that she had almost forgotten the base attraction that she had felt for him, almost. It was impossible to forget the stretch of his trousers across his wonderfully pert backside as he reached down to collect her popcorn, the way his muscles worked as he chopped vegetables or sparred with Steve, or the incredible way that his battle suit accentuated all of the above rather wonderful features. The fact that he had been hard just centimetres away from her face; so hard that he had felt the need to touch himself, for what she assumed was the first time, was the perfect combination of arousing and frustrating.

She shifted so that her body was pointed towards the television, the action causing her skirt to ride up slightly and her breasts to enter his eye-line ever so slightly. She noticed the slight movement of his head and his hand repeatedly clench on the leg that she wasn’t lying on.

Would it be terrible to tease him? She squeezed her thighs together trying to stem the throbbing between them. She kept thinking about what she would have seen had she opened the door to his room without warning, what could have happened. He would be larger than average, his hand would be tight around himself, pumping slowly, eyes screwed shut and mouth open in a silent moan. He would moan her name which would spur her into action. She would place her hand against the arm grasping himself. His eyes would shoot open, panic would begin to fill them. She would trail her hand down to his in question. He would nod almost imperceptibly and remove his own hand as she wrapped hers around him. She would drag her hand over his length, his knees buckling as he thrust into her hand, gasping her name. His fingers would curl into her hair.

“Please, please Wanda.” He would gasp, rubbing his fingers against her scalp, shaking and moaning in pleasure. Clearly he wasn’t going to last long.

“Please, I want, please.”

“Vizh? What do you want, Vizh?”

“Please, kiss me, Wanda.” She smiled. She was close to giving him his first orgasm (or so she assumed) and he wanted a kiss. Adorable. She would reach her unoccupied hand up to his jaw moving his face downwards to meet hers and capture him in a soft kiss. Chaste, considering what she was currently doing to him. He would be brave enough to initiate another soft kiss, feathering them across her mouth. She would feel it before he did, the pulsing in his hardness, the hitch to his voice and the hurried way he began to thrust into her fist as he came, eyes wide and with a long groan of her name.

“Popcorn?” She was snapped out of her daydream by a red hand hovering a piece of popcorn over her mouth. She could have sworn he was smirking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you have enjoyed this smutty little story. I hope to start writing some others soon. I have a few ideas in the works. In the meantime if anybody has any ideas for some short one shots they would like then please let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into MCU fanfiction. I hope that you have enjoyed! Please let me know if you have any ideas you would like me to follow up on.


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